Princess Tutu In the name of love
by William Peters
Summary: With Drosselmeyer defeated Fakir presumes he can return to a normal life. However, he can not find peace in his heart, nor can he write. The shadow of Drosselmeyer and his evil intent for all whom lives in Gold Crown Town remains.


Princess Tutu

"In the name of love"

The lake lay still like a pane of glass reflecting the sun, trees and grass that grew around it. Like a silver mirror promising a distant unreachable world. Near the lake sat a young man nestled up against an old willow tree. He lay half dreaming with a small yellow duck sleeping in the white ruffles of his shirt. A breeze stirred the air around him pushing his long black hair into his solemn face blocking his view.

A month had passed since he had broken Drosselmeyers' machine, the Prince and Rue returning to the story. The story of the "Prince & the Raven" had finally come to an end. Yet Fakir felt no sense of victory or relief. He looked down at Duck. She slept quietly, but a sadness seemed to hang over her. It was hard to believe that this little yellow duck had once been Princess Tutu and also the clumsy schoolgirl called Duck. But without Drosselmeyers' story and the red pendant she was now just a duck.

He remembered Drosselmeyers' lake of despair, how deep he and Duck had fallen as his sinister plan ensnared them. Duck had looked at him with the same sadness.

"And I will go back to being a duck." Duck said tears still in her crystal blue eyes.

"That's okay isn't it?" Fakir replied in gentle voice. "That is who you really are."

But was it okay. Duck had grown sad and listless in the month. Even though he had kept his promise and stayed by her side.

She would always try and look happy for him as she swam across the lake and lay against him as he tried to write.

Duck stirred slowly waking. Her eyes still the same blue that had stared at him in the lake of despair. She tried to smile, if a Duck can smile. Her eyes catching his reflection.

"Good morning, did you sleep well," Fakir asked as he gently lay her on top of the lake breaking the reflection as if to shatter the mirror world that lay below. She nodded sleepily and dipped her face quickly into the water.

"I've got go and see Karon, but I promise I will come back and see you again tomorrow. Okay?"

The Duck looked up from the lake and "quacked" A brief look of joy ran across her face and she turned and slowly paddled her way from the shore.

Fakir picked up the small manuscript that lay on top of his blue school jacket. School, the academy of dance, when was the last time he had actually gone? It seemed like years. He flipped through the manuscript as he gathered his thoughts. Blank pages, he hadn't been able to write. The story that had stirred in his heart had grown cluttered and dark with worry. I must talk to Karon he'll know what to do.

Karon and he had grown closer these last weeks. Ever since Tutu had lifted the shared of regret from him, Karon had healed. He had healed too. He had shed his fears and grown into a stronger man.

Fakir hurried his pace. He gazed uneasily at the clock tower that still hung like a monolithic tombstone over the center of Gold Town Crown. Pausing briefly as its shadow passed over him chilling his heart. Drosselmeyer… his spirit still seems still linger like a bad dream. He thought of Ducks sad expression and once again quickened his pace.

Karons' house lay against the tall walls that use to separate Gold Crown town from the real and Drosselmeyers' twisted world. The chimney next to workshop billowing smoke further dulling the yellow paint and clouding the already dirty windows.

Fakir grabbed the handle opening the green door. Light poured into the workshop as Fakir stood in the doorway. Karon stood over a large wooden table. A pair of tongs in one hand, while brandishing a hammer in his other hand. It seemed to almost be an extension of his strong soot covered arm. Karon stopped and looked up. His brown eyes squinting in the sunlight. Putting down the hammer he ran his hand through his brown hair forgetting the soot and than half embarrassed wiping it on his apron.

"Fakir?" he said with both a bit of joy and surprise. What brings you here so early today?" than almost with a scowl "You didn't skip school again did you?"

"That's not really important is it?' Fakir replied as he fetched Karon a cup of water from the barrel next to the door.

"Thank you" Karon said as he inhaled the water in the silver cup and handed back to Fakir.

"Of course it's important!" he said with a scolding tone. "You haven't gone in more than a month. I'm sure your teachers are starting to worry."

"I know Karon… I know" but Fakir paused and looked down at the floor. Karon had been working harder than ever these last three weeks. He had refashioned several new antiques he had purchased. Everything from some iron casts to even a new sword for him. The antique shop looked crowded.

"Look" Karon said trying to warm the tone of his voice "you need to start living again. I know it's hard now that your role as Mytho's protector is over and Rue and Duck are gone. But the story couldn't last forever."

"I know." And of all people Fakir really did know. It was by his hand that the story had ended. It was by his hand Mytho and Rue got their "Happy Ending" and it was by his hand Duck…

"You miss her don't you?" Karon asked in a low voice.

"Don't be redic….." Fakir had started to say

"Fakir, you can't lie to me. I see it all over your face." Karon placed his hand on Fakirs shoulder. "I know you're going to tell me you see her every day at the lake…but you and I both know that's not the same, is it?"

Fakir bowed his head, "No… it's not. As a matter of fact that is why I came to see you. I think Duck might be sick."

Karons' eyebrows crease as he looked at Fakirs face. "Sick? Why, what do you think might be wrong with her?"

"I don't know Karon she's become listless and"

Karon cut him off. "Fakir comes with me."

They made their way across the workshop and entered the attached cottage. They made their way into the kitchen. A large iron pot sat on top of the wood burning stove its lid rattling at the heat and steam rose like breath towards the ceiling filling the room with the aroma of stew.

Settling into a chair by the table Karon motioned to Fakir to sit down.

"Fakir, how long was Duck a girl?" he asked masking the intent of his question.

"A couple of months I guess. Why do you ask?"

"Think about it Fakir, Duck spent months being a girl. She made friends, developed human feelings. How do you think you would feel if your world had been turned upside down and then after all that you went back to being a duck?" Karon asked. He was trying to be gentle but he knew no matter how he phrased things it was going to trouble Fakir. It was something he had been avoiding but knew he'd have to confront Fakir with eventually.

Fakir stirred uncomfortably in his chair "But that is what she was"

Karon shook his head he knew that Fakir was still dealing with various conflicting emotions. It had taken him so long to get over his fears and the pain of losing his parents. It would be hard for him to deal with these new feelings that he had been locking away.

"Yes, that is what she WAS. But she was no longer a simple Duck. Just as she changed you, Duck had changed. I don't think she could ever go back to being a simple duck."

"Than am I to blame?" Fakir asked. His voice sounded stark as a tormented look crossed his face.

"No." Karon said firmly and quickly he didn't want that idea settling into Fakirs heart. "You weren't the one whom brought her into the story and you weren't responsible for making her into a girl."

"But I am responsible for her returning to being a duck" Fakir replied his tone heavy with concern and regret.

"Fakir, you may have turned her back into a duck… but I don't think that is the only factor at work here."

"What do you mean Karon" Fakir starred at Karon unsure of where this was going.

"I think both you and Duck were starting to develop feelings for each other," Karon said. Fakir starred at him his mouth hanging open.

"You can close your mouth now Fakir" Karon smirked.

"Feelings? Duck was in love with the Mythos" Fakir exclaimed, "She didn't have feelings for me. Besides that would be me ridiculous… she's a duck." His voice tailed off a definite note of sadness hung in the air like a bell that was out of tune.

"No, Fakir, She was a duck whom Drosselmeyer turned into a girl for his own designs. And her feelings for Mythos were part of the story Drosselmeyer was writing."

Fakir's head ached. Could Duck really have fallen in love with him? Fakir closed his eyes he could see Ducks freckled face and red hair as if she was standing directly in front of him. Shaking himself he quickly tried to forget the image.

Once again Fakir could feel Karons' hand on his shoulder. "Fakir I know you find it difficult to admit your feelings but even I could see how much she meant to you. Why else would you spend every day at the lake?"

"Because I promise her I would never leave her side" Fakir Answer but the answer to hung with a hollow sound.

"Is that really the only reason?" Karon prodded

Silence filled the room. The sun was setting and its fiery red glow turned the walls of Gold Crown town into a crimson ring. Karon moved across the room and started washing up. Fakir placed his head in his hands. Could what Karon said be true? Fakir looked across the town through the kitchen windows and thought about duck swimming all alone on the lake. The monolithic clock tower caught the corner of his eyes. Damn you Drosselmeyer. Even though Fakir had ended his story it still was causing people pain. Fakir could imagine the bastard's satisfied grin. Even in defeat he had some measure of victory.

Even as Fakir thought in disgust over Drosselmeyer another young man sat frustrated. Autor sat at the replica of Drosselmeyer desk that he'd put together. His head was full of volumes that he wanted to write but nothing would come. Anger consumed him as he thought jealously of Fakir and his power.

"Damn it, why can't I write!" His angry voice echoing in the candle lit chamber. Books lay strewn across the room. Half blank pages of parchment crumpled and tossed towards a smoldering fire

He pounded the desk his hand clutching the feathered plume in his hand. He had sat where the great oak tree had once stood. The tree had almost consumed Fakir and even though Autor also had Drosselmeyers' blood flowing through his veins he could barely hear a whisper.

Agony and despair racked his brain what more could he do? He could almost sense Drosselmeyer staring at him through the darkness. Drosselmeyer, oh what he would do to have such power? Autor knew these desires were wrong but he felt driven. He had to obtain them no matter what the cost. Even if it cost him his life.

Autor thought about the events of the last month. How the Raven had nearly taken over the town, cursing its people to become crows themselves. He marveled at the extent of Drosselmeyers' power and yet he was still amazed that a simple duck had ended it. Her desires and hopes had been enough to overcome Drosselmeyers' dark will.

Fool, I'd never make a mistake like that! Autor thought arrogantly as he bristled with pride. There has to a way.

Autor rose from the desk pushing back the blank parchment with his ink stained hands. His mind numb and body weary from stress. Crossing the room removing his glasses, rubbing his eyes. A yawn escaped him as he lay onto the cot near the fireplace. Almost immediately he began to slip into a light slumber.

Suddenly to his surprise he found himself standing in a small grove behind the church. The cold of the night air caused him to shiver as the pale moonlight illuminated a lone tombstone that stood amongst some brush. Autor felt compelled to walk towards the tombstone. He had seen it once before, Fakir had spent several hours sitting here trying desperately to find his ability to write. At the time he had been trying to save Princess Tutu whom had been capture by Drosselmeyer. Adjusting his glasses … hey when he put those back on… I'm dreaming! He realized as the name on the tombstone became dreadfully clear. Drosselmeyer.

Autor woke with a start, the image of Drosselmeyers' tomb etched into his memory. Looking up at the clock on the mantle he could see that it was nearly midnight. Autor put on his glasses and as he hurried towards the door grabbing his jacket as he stepped out into the cool nighttime air. He knew what he would do; he'd go to Drosselmeyers' grave! Who knows he muttered to himself, maybe the old fossils ghost will inspire him.

The streets of Gold Crown Town were empty as he made his way towards the grave. He clung to the walls of the surrounding buildings like a thief staying in the shadows. He knew the Bookmen had disbanded after Fakir had ended the Prince & the Raven. But he rather be careful, he suspected that they may still be keeping an uneasy eye on Fakir.

As he rounded the corner he stopped and checked to make sure that no one was following him. He almost felt giddy as he slipped past the church into the small grove that stood beyond. He could already see the two slabs of stone that made-up Drosselmeyers grave. Lying in an L shape between the brush against the city wall. The stones were exactly as he has remembered, moss covered, a stone book lying face down and open against the bottom slab. Drosselmeyers name seem to almost mock him as he reached out tracing the name with his index finger in the ice-cold stone. His hands were shaking, his heart racing at the possibilities. He knelt down as if to pray. The stone dug into his knees and he shuffled his body to try and find a comfortable position. He turned his back against the stones face and stared up at the night sky. His body ached and the chill of the stone bit into him but Autor no longer cared. He would come here every night until his own powers awoke.

"I will obtain the ability to make stories come to life and I'll show Fakir and those damned Bookmen how Drosselmeyers' powers were meant to be used"

As if the night had heard him a presence seemed to fill the grove. Light seemed to bend and twist the shadows and a shaped began to take form.

Somewhere in the shadows of time where spirits may roam a figure sat hunched over a long table. A shattered teacup lay spilt slowly pouring off the table into the void below.

Drosselmeyer breathed deeply lamenting his state. His long red robes hanging on his gaunt shoulders, a feathered hat covering the gleaming hateful yellow eyes that stared into the stillness. Gears still sat unmoving surrounding the chamber where sat as he pondered his defeat. How long he had sat there he was unsure and to a ghost time and space meant nothing to him.

He looked over the gears a thick coating of dust had begun to settle, their functionality crumbling before him. He had been so close to finalizing his revenge. The Prince would have lost his heart. The Girl whom believed she was the Raven Princess would have turned to dust in the lake of despair. The boy whom foolishly challenged his powers would have sat as Drosselmeyer did now unable to do anything and watch in stark terror, as the Raven would have devoured his friends and the town around him. It was perfect, a never-ending story of dashed hopes, failed loves and empty dreams.

What had he done wrong? He still couldn't believe that a duck, an ugly little duck could have brought so much hope into the story. Enough hope that it gave the Prince, Rue and Fakir the strength to defeat the Raven and him.

Drosselmeyer could still here the sound of Fakirs voice "I will end this story" he said as he broke the arm of the machine tossing away the plume that had worked bitterly for years trying to push the story to its close. He had watched horrified unable to do anything trapped here in the thresholds of time in the world of gears and marionettes he had fashioned to do his bidding.

Than something strange had happened, He could sense a presence. Was it Uzara? Had she come back to where ever she had drifted off to in the void? No, it wasn't her. The presence was heavier and full of hate. It was delightful to his senses.

Drosselmeyer hurried moving further along the gears searching for this new sensation. It was drawing him along and all at once a long sneer broke out across his face. One of the gears was glowing in the darkness. A human face wavered in the inner circle. He recognized the face; it was the stupid boy whom thought him to be one of Drosselmeyers descendents. Nothing could have been further from the truth. The boy had none of his blood and none of his power. Still then, why would this gear be drawn to him? Why was he also drawn to him? He pulled at his chill with his white gloves, there has to be a connection. He thought. The image grew clearer as he watched the boy snake his way through the streets of Gold Crown Town. When he stopped briefly Drosselmeyer wondered if the boy could sense his presence. He was relieved and then suddenly all too curious.

"Is that my grave?" Drosselmeyer asked. As he watched Autor kneel down upon the stones and lean into them.

"I'd give anything to have Drosselmeyers' powers" Autor said "Even my own life"

Drosselmeyer stared with glee at this boy. He finally understood the connection; in Autors' unfounded jealousy he had come to hate those around him. He had come to hate the Bookmen whom ignored him. Fakir whom had somehow surpassed him and mostly the duck that had ended the story making his life insignificant. Yes, this boy was filled with rage. How wonderful, how delicious and how useful.

Drosselmeyer could feel his own strength growing, feeding off this boy's rage. Could he do it? Did he dare? He looked over at the time cabinet that he had built to travel into the story. It seemed to pulse with a new life. Drosselmeyer open the cabinet's door and stepped in.

Autor starred amazed as the shadows twisted in the light before him. The world around him seemed to grow quiet and deathly still. Nothing seemed to move as he slowly managed to pull himself off the ground unsure if he should run. A void spilt the night and a strange wooded cabinet appeared. It was as tall as a man, no taller. In some way it reminded him more of a coffin than a cabinet. He nearly let out a scream as he stumbled back nearly tripping over the stone book as a figure emerged.

It wore a red flowing robe with a lizard embossed on the back. He wore a huge feathered cap that rose like a peacocks tail bending backwards. The face was old and no kindness could be felt from the large smile that seemed to extend from ear to ear.

"Who are you" Autor gasped gripping the top of Drosselmeyers' tombstone trying to steady himself.

"You don't know me?" Drosselmeyer asked fanning to be hurt "I'd expect more from someone with my blood flowing through them"

"Drosselmeyer?" Autor chocked on the name. He had longed to have met him. Longed to talk with him and longed to have his strength.

"So… you want to have my power do you?" Drosselmeyer asked. "You'd give anything to be like me?"

Autor nodded. It was all he could do as his knees trembled. He cursed himself for his lack of bravery but what else could he do after all it was his first time seeing a ghost.

"And you even give up your life would you?" Drosselmeyer pressed mocking the boy, sneering at him behind his great big yellow eyes.

Autor looked at those eyes. They were cold and unforgiving. "Yes" he managed to say out loud and than gathering up all his strength "Yes I would do anything to have your power even give up my life"

Drosselmeyer seemed to move around him as he spoke looking intently at him as a serpent eyes a small mouse in a field.

"Good" Drosselmeyer stated, "Than that is exactly what you will do"

Autors' eyes grew wide, what was going on he thought, as suddenly Drosselmeyer seem to loom over him. An icy chill pierced his skin.

"What are you doing" Autor asked his voice filled with panic

"Giving you what you want. I will take you and your life and use it to extract my revenge."

Autor screamed as Drosselmeyers' ice cold hand plummeted into his heart. Autor could feel Drosselmeyer seeping into his body over shadowing his mind. It was then he caught a glimpse of the awe full truth. Drosselmeyer was going to use him; he'd become his new machine to write out his malevolence.

"Oh how this town will suffer, those Bookmen will suffer and best of all I will kill that Fakir and watch that poor pathetic duck die of despair."

Drosselmeyer rose Autors' body up off the ground. What a strange sensation he thought as he looked himself over feeling out his new found limbs. The wind brushed over his face and he closed his eyes reveling in the sensation. Deep inside he could feel the over shadowed Autor fighting him trying to get access to his own body. What a fool that boy had been Drosselmeyer thought; his pride and anger had been his fall. A moment of weakness over took him and he stumbled into the side of the church as he made his way into the heart of Gold Crown Town. I will have to be careful; even though this was a young and healthy body it will eventually burn itself out from the stress of being overshadowed.

"I mustn't let that happen too soon" Drosselmeyer said aloud, "I have a lot of catching up to do with some old friends of mine"

A lark let out a cry as a ripple of light sprung across the eastern horizon. A golden light sprung across the tops of the trees and caressed the sides of the clock tower. Drosselmeyer smiled and quickened his pace. I must see what is left of my machine, who knows maybe he'd find something useful there.

Fakir tossed and turned in a fitful sleep as his mind raced. The monster Raven spread its winds engulfing the entire town in darkness turning people, friends and family into crows. He struggled powerless, unable to write as the darkness enveloped them. Tears stained his face and ink poured from the plume onto the blank pages like blood flowing from his own hands.

"You left me" he heard a small voice cry. "You left me in the darkness to die of despair it said."

Fakir looked around, he didn't see anyone. The Ravens blood again began to pour from the sky like a black rain. The screaming crows crying endlessly for him to give up his own heart. The Prince was gone, Rue was gone and wait were is Duck?

Fakir nearly stumbled tripping in a puddle. Catching himself before he fell to his knees. His heart fell into his stomach. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a small yellow body lying in the mud near the puddle in which he had tripped. Fakir slumped forward sinking into the blood stained mud.

"No" Fakir reached out picking up the small yellow duck. "This can't be happening"

The duck opened its eyes.

"You failed me Fakir." It said with an accusing tone. "I thought you were strong, I thought you and I could protect the Prince and save the town."

Fakir's hands trembled as the Ducks body was failing in front of his eyes. Its voice trailing off into a horse whisper. Tears rolled down his face unable to talk unable to write. He had failed… he had failed.

Fakir sat up in his bed his body covered in sweat. He clutched his chest catching his breath trying to shake the feeling of slowly being suffocated. Moonlight etched the walls of his room casting uneasy looking shadows across the floor. Pulling the covers off his legs as he sat up the cool wooden floor felt reassuring under his feet.

It was only a bad dream. Fakir learned over and picked up the new sword Karon had purchased for him.

Karon has spent days re-working the blade. Drawing it out from its hilt he admired the craftsmanship. It was lighter than the Lohengrin sword, the blade that he had used to break the prince's sword. Twisting it back and forth watching the moonlight dance off the blade, dancing into the far corners of the room. A silver oak tree rose out of the hilt and stretched out across the blade. Karon had really out done himself it was a sword more worthy a Prince than a failed Knight.

Fakir recalled what Karon said to him when he gave him the blade.

"I know you've given up being a Knight to write, but, a time may come when you will need a sword when your pen fails you." His face had been grim when he had said it. Was it foreshadowing? Time would only tell.

He put the sword back into its sheath and laid it on his chest as he tried to go back to sleep. The weight of the blade actually felt comforting. Soon the darkness of sleep once again over took him. He began to dream of crystal blue lake and a beautiful girl with long red hair and a flowing yellow dress.

The overshadowed Autor came to the clock tower that stood in the center of Gold Town Crown. Its stone seemed too grown in the early morning light as if it understood the evil it had been used for. The great wooden door had been bared shut and scaffolding was being erected at the base of the clock. Parts of Drosselmeyers' machine lay in piles at the foot of the tower. Autor shook his head and began to run his hand over the beam baring the door.

It would take too much time to re-work the machine Autor thought and he could see by the notices posted that the clock tower was scheduled to be torn down. He would not be able to operate from here. He would need to use the fabricated study as his base of operations. He began to rummage through the parts of his machine and to his surprise he found something soft.

Could it be? Could these people be that ignorant? Autor smiled as he carefully lifted a couple of wooden arms and slowly pulled out a long feather plume. It was as he thought, although a little worse for wear, the goose feather he had used to write all his stories with. It had been an intrical part of his machine. Autor hands trembled as he stroked the feather, things will be even easier than he thought.

Autor slipped the feather into his blue blazer and headed back towards his study. Feeling slightly feverish he decided he rest a bit before starting to write.

The sunlight now broke over the walls of the town illuminating the still quiet streets. He pondered what should he do to these people? He had already turned them into crows…so birds would be redundant. And the Bookmen will be watching, but he could use that for _his_ advantage. The pawns were already in place but he needed to get them to move.

What type of story will I get you to tell me Fakir and Duck? What type indeed? This time though he would not under estimate them.

Outside of town a mist hung on the lake and in the brush like a Smokey spider web giving the world a mystical quality. A small yellow duck paddled across the lake almost as if dancing through the fog. And as if some magic had filled the air and if one wasn't paying close attention they'd swear that they could see a girl dancing amongst the mist. Her feet barely touched the water as she spun and bent her body doing pirouettes with the catching the sun's rays in her brilliant red hair.

Duck knew the transformation wouldn't last, but she relished and savored every moment of being a girl. She never understood why but there seemed to be days when she could become a girl. What was the key she did not know? Sinking down into the water she let it trickle through her fingers like liquid silver and flow over her bare skin. It felt calming and helped lift her spirits a little.

Was this wrong? Duck thought. Am I being selfish wanting to stay a girl?

She sorely missed her friends, Pike and Lillie. She also missed Mytho and Rue, and although he spent every day with him, she missed Fakir. She remembered how warm and strong his arms were and blushed a little. Then she quickly pushed those thoughts from her mind after all… she is just a duck. She couldn't afford herself to have these feelings. Feelings that are useless to a duck.

She wondered when she had begun to think of Fakir like this? Most of the time she spent as a girl she was in love with Mytho and had wanted to be his princess. Yet now her thoughts were more and more of Fakir. Was it because he came to the lake to see her? No, this started before that. Originally it was the inner strength he had given her that allowed her to fulfill her role as Princess Tutu. But as she and Fakir worked together to change and end Drosselmeyers' story something else happened.

The mist began to break up around the lake, the sun burning away its gray walls. The water sparkled like diamonds in its brightness and the illusion of being a girl slipped away like the mist that had encircled her. She looked at her yellow feathers and than her reflection in the water a tear hung in her eye as she began to paddle once more along the lake top.

At least Fakir would be here soon, she thought, it will be nice to see him. But was it right to do so? He's not going to school and he's not writing either. I've become a distraction, a burden. Tears poured down her face as much as it hurt she realized that she must let him go, if I can't be a girl I can't hold onto him. But I'll be all alone… that thought truly scared her, but if that is her fate? It was decided, she'd say goodbye to him today and avoid this part of the lake until he stops coming to see her. Tears continued to flow and she took a deep breath and collected herself. Today she would set him free and end her last connection to the human world.

"Duck" she could hear Fakir call. His voice sounded a little strange this morning.

"Duck" he called again. She could see him standing on the lakeshore holding a bundle of goodies he'd stolen from Karons'' kitchen. Composing herself she paddled over to him trying her best to smile. She felt as if she was back in the lake of despair but this time Fakir wouldn't be able to save her. She almost started to cry again and caught her breath. Avoiding looking directly at him she gazed at the lakes surroundings.

How long will I have after today? She wondered. She knew it wouldn't be long after today. She wouldn't be able to last in this world without anyone.

"Hey Duck" Fakirs calming voice came to her, "What's wrong?" he could see that she'd been crying.

"Quack" she managed to let out in a happy sound.

"Really" Fakir said as if he understood her. "You know I can see that you've been crying"

Duck began quacking as if to be arguing with him denying the accusations. But Fakir picked her up and pulled her close to his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said his voice cracking slightly, "It's all my fault" He sunk down onto the shore line and leaned over her. She could feel something warm and wet splashing the back of her head. She looked up at his face to see that Fakir was crying. She had seen him cry like this once before.

"You miss being a girl don't you?" Fakir managed to say, "I never realized how difficult it would be for you." He held her up and looked into her eyes. He could see tears welling up her eyes to.

"I thought that because you were a duck that you should go back to being a duck… I never thought about how being a girl might have affected you." Fakir said "I'm so sorry Duck I just..." his voice tailed off. Duck pushed herself out of his hands and flapped her way back down to the ground beneath Fakirs feet.

"Quack!" she said "Fakir Stop!" "It wasn't your fault and you can't keep blaming yourself." She quacks angrily at him. This was it, she thought, her opportunity to let him go.

"Quack" (I am a duck, nothing more nothing less) "Quack" (And you need to stop…) she fought the tears welling up in her eyes. (You need to stop coming here)

Fakir looked at her shaking his head. "But I promised you..." duck didn't let him finish

"Quack" (I know you promised) "Quack" (but you have a life Fakir. A life as a human) "Quack" (You need to go back to school and to your friends and forget about me) Duck turned away and jumped into the water. She looked back at him over her left wing. "Quack" (I'm a Duck Fakir and you need to forget about me …I'll be fine) she lied to him as she paddled quickly back to the center of the lake.

Fakir pushed himself up and called after her "Duck…wait" but Duck kept swimming to the lakes center.

"Duck…don't go" he called after her. Fakir stared at her and waded in up to his waste. But she was gone. His head hung low as he turned back towards the shore. Duck…he thought, now what should he do? He leaned against a tree and buried his head in him arms. His head and heart hurt. He had no desire to go back to school and his heart was too heavy to write. In a way he could understand what duck was going through. He felt very alone in this world and he wished so very badly for the girl whom had once been his friend.

"Duck, I love you," he whispered knowing the words meant nothing if she couldn't hear them. He stood himself up and turned back to the lake. He still couldn't see her, where could she have hidden herself? Gathering his voice he cried out one last time

"Duck, I love you!" His voice echoed into the fading morning and only his own voice came back to him. She hadn't heard or she purposely stayed away. He wasn't sure.

"Go back to school and to your friends and forget about me," She had said to him. How he understood her was a mystery. Maybe he just understood the emotions behind it.

"I'm a Duck Fakir and you need to forget about me …I'll be fine" She had been lying when she said that, he knew she wouldn't be fine. That she was trying to be strong for his sake. Forget about her? He could never do that. She was the girl whom changed him. The girl that inspired him to write. She was the girl whom in the end has saved him and he realized that he loved her.

Far away on the other side of the lake Duck rested in some reeds. She could still see Fakir standing there at the edge of the lake. He was yelling something. She tried not to listen but the words caught her ears and pierced her heart.

Duck, I love you!"

I love you to Fakir she thought as she cried, and that's why I've let you go.

She watched him slowly move away from the lake, stopping every now and then to look back hoping to catch a glance of her. Fakir never felt so heavy as he made his way back into the town. Unaware of the trap that had been set for him.

The overshadowed Autor awakened and sat up. Drosselmeyer allowed his eyes to readjust to the dimly lit study that Autor had built in Reverence to himself. The fireplace barely glowed as its amber colored fire was no more than a few smoldering cinders. He grabbed a taper candle and stuck the wick into the fire and watched as the white waxed began to melt and drip into the fireplace like blood slowly pouring out from its end. Finally a small flame flickered on the wicks edge and Drosselmeyer rose protecting it with his hand from the breeze his movements now created. He pressed the fire against some other lumps and bits of candles that lay about bringing the room to life. Although the sun was now fully risen and strong he felt it would be best to remain with his chamber windows closed.

He pulled the feathered plume from out of his jackets pocket and dipped it into the ink well. Settling into the chair Drosselmeyer began to write his new story.

Fakir walled slowly back through the gates of Gold Crown Town, His head hung low.

Still early the streets were sparsely populated with people making their way to market. Working his way slowly back to Karons' not noticing the pair of eyes staring at him hatefully from the shadows.

A shadow passed over the sun and a cold wind began to blow chilling him as if someone had just walked on his grave. The ground began to tremble and a loud bang rang in Fakirs ears. He quickly turned around to see the gates had slammed shut.

What was going on? He wondered as the day grew darker and the town now seemed to radiate an evil gloaming. He tried to push the gate back open now very worried that Duck might be in terrible danger but found that they were locked shut. He could hear people screaming as if terrified. Doors and windows were slamming, being locked as they tried to hide from this growing menacing feeling that now settled into the town.

It was than Fakir noticed the small man standing in his path.

The stout man wore a brownish robe with a hood covering his face. He was plump and no more than 4 and half feet tall. Normally Fakir wouldn't have bothered to give the man a second look, but the ax he carried made Fakir Come to an abrupt halt.

"We thought that since you saved us and the town you were different." The old man croaked in a raspy voice.

"What are you talking about?" Fakir asked

"They're all dead," he said almost like he was spitting out something vile from his mouth.

"Who is dead…? I really don't have time for this" Fakir said attempting to circumvent the bookman.

"The Bookmen are all dead. Found twisted and broken in their studies each of them taking their own life as if they were attempting to escape some horrible nightmare" The old man's eyes gleamed with hate as he began to raise his ax taking aim at Fakirs head.

"And you think I had something to do with this?" Fakir answered back sharply. "I told you I don't have time for this! " Fakir jumped aside as the ax swung he stumbled losing his balance hitting his head against some rocks. His vision blurry as blood streamed down his face he tried to stand but couldn't regain his balance.

"Now I have you" The bookman said with a wrathful hiss and began to lift his ax to strike Fakir down.

"Wait!" A voice called out. Fakir recognized the voice, it sounded like Autor.

"What is it you want? The bookman scowled "I don't want the head of a useless hack whom only dreams of writing" The bookman grumbled.

Fakir managed to get to his feet and started to run to Karons'. Thank god that Autor had stepped in! That's twice he's saved me from those maniacs. Barely able to keep his footing Fakir managed to get to Karons'.

"Fakir" he heard Karon call "You must hurry, there isn't much time" Karon helped him inside and locked the wooden door behind him. He grabbed a wet cloth and pressed quickly against the cut on his head. Fakir grimaced as it stung.

"What's going on Karon?" Fakir asked still trying to catch his breath.

"I'm not sure Fakir, but, I don't like it" Karon answered, "This darkness is un-natural and reminds me too much like one of Drosselmeyers' stories"

"It can't be… I destroyed his machine" Fakir said while biting his lip. His head hurt badly and his vision had not cleared up enough yet. "I destroyed his only means of making stories"

A large cracking noise broke over the room and a silver edged ax blade came slicing through Karons' front door.

"It's the Bookman" Fakir said "He said something about me killing all of them"

Karon lifted the kitchen table and slammed it against the front door. "That should slow him down for a couple of more minutes." Karon said. "I'll hold him off in the mean time."

"Karon you can't" Fakir said as another ax blow stuck the door rattling it on its hinges.

"There's no time to argue Fakir" Karon yelled, "Go get your sword and get out of here."

"What about you?" He asked as he quickly raced into the other room grabbing his sword.

"I'll be fine" Karon answered "I'll lure him into my work shop. I have plenty of weapons to protect myself with there.

"But I can fight him with you!" Fakir continued to argue as the door began to splinter the face of the Bookman now visible through the cracks.

"NO!" Karon yelled grabbing him by the shoulders. "You must get out of here and find Duck. If Drosselmeyer has found another way back from the grave she is in mortal danger."

Fakir's face grew pale. Karon was right, Duck was in danger. But how? How did this happen? How could Drosselmeyer arise again from the dead? He pushed open his window and looked out to the street below. The Bookman didn't see him. Cautiously climbing out he hung digging his fingers into the windows edge and lowered himself to the street below. He heard Karons' door crash in and the Bookmen pushing his way passed the table they had set up as a barrier. Fakir was tempted to rush the door and get the Bookman from behind. But he headed Karons' words and rushed head long towards the gate of the town.

He could hear people screaming and crying but couldn't see anyone. He felt vexed as each stone face building looked no different than another. Suddenly he felt someone grab him from behind. He turned to see a young woman reaching out to him. But she seemed stuck, stuck to the earth.

"Help Me," she pleaded as he watched in horror as her feet had become rooted to the ground and her legs and arms slowly turned into wooden branches. There was nothing he could do for her as within moments the shape of an elm took the very spot where she had stood only moments earlier. It was the same all around him there were many new and various trees dotting the landscape of Gold Crown Town. He could even see branches protruding through some of the shop windows.

God this was awful he thought as he raced even harder to reach the outside walls.

Autor stood in his path just in front of the gate, which had been thrown, open as if a giant had ripped it asunder. Fakir stopped his head throbbing, his lungs aching. He stared at Autor. He looked different somehow. He no longer wore his school blazer but a long robe that look awkward on his small body.

"Confused I see?" Autor spoke in a menacing tone. "Is it because I just saved you from the Bookmen? He went on "they're just a plot device Fakir… I used him to distract you while I went after what I really wanted."

"Drosselmeyer" Fakir said with a hiss from between his clenched teeth.

"Very Good boy… maybe you are as smart as I thought."

What have you done?" Fakir asked his voice angry and scared. "What have you done to Autor and the town's people?"

"I don't think that's your biggest concern boy" Drosselmeyer held out something small and yellow dangling from his hands. It was Ducks lifeless body.

"Duck" Fakir yelled rage now building in his heart as he stared at her motionless body.

"What have you down to her you bastard" Fakir growled raising his sword.

"Nothing yet, she's still very much alive." Drosselmeyer grinned, "Besides, I want her to suffer …so I must wait till she wakes up. Than she can watch helpless as I kill you."

Than suddenly Drosselmeyer frowned, as he looked Fakir over. "Oh I see you've gone back to being a useless knight, how very disappointing"

"You wont think I'm useless when I sever your head from your body" Fakir replied as he stepped toward Autor.

"Careful Fakir" Drosselmeyer laughed, "or you might hurt your young friends body."

Fakir lowered his sword, as much as he hated Drosselmeyer, he was right. He couldn't strike at Drosselmeyer while he was still in Autors' body for fear of hurting him or worse, Duck.

"Damn you" Fakir snarled He felt powerless his eyes focusing on the little yellow duck hanging in his hands. It was like his dream; he was powerless against Drosselmeyer.

"I know, poor little Fakir." Drosselmeyer mocked him "Unable to write, unable to fight and save the ones he loves."

Once again rage began to seep into Fakirs eyes as Drosselmeyer continued. "Just like when you were a boy and you let the crows kill your parents! Now the whole town suffers and all you can do is watch"

Fakir could feel himself trembling as the words tore at him like an invisible blade twisting into his soul. The more Drosselmeyer seemed to talk the more Fakirs mind seem to swirl with confusion and despair. Than another voice broke the spell.

"Fakir" It was Karon, "Don't listen to him he's trying to lull…" his voice broke off suddenly and Fakir spun to see Karon fall to the ground his legs turning to roots as he reached out to Fakir.

"He's a liar Fakir he just wants to…" Karon's voice faded as his body twisted and turned up to the sky turning into a tall old beach tree. Fakir knew he had to end this and forced himself to turn around and face Drosselmeyer once more. He lifted the sword and began to move to where Drosselmeyer stood.

"Too late" Drosselmeyer said and all at once everything went black.

Fakir awoke his head swimming. His vision swooned as he tried to regain his focus, the world blurry and dark. As his vision cleared he realized that it wasn't his eyes, the room was dark. A few candles lit on the wall barely cast enough light to give shape to his surroundings.

He could see Duck, a rope tied around her small legs hanging as if waiting for slaughter. Trying to regain his senses he rubbed his leg, they were stiff, sore and bound. He looked over to Duck she was still un-conscience. He wondered where the overshadowed Autor was and whom had hit him from behind. He tried to pull himself up by his arms and found he had no strength. The room quickly began to spin and again darkness over took him.

"Fakir" a soft voice called him.

"Fakir" he opened his eyes and found himself sitting under the willow tree by the lake; He was startled momentarily by his unexpected surroundings.

"Fakir" again came the soft voice. He stood up. The grass was green and lush against his bare feet and the air smelled sweet and warm. A young woman stood at the edge the lake wading in the water with her back towards him. She wore a yellow dress and her red hair blew freely in the breeze.

"Duck?" He inquired unsure if this was real or a dream.

The girl turned slowly toward him. He bright blue eyes sparkled and her smile was as warm as the noonday sun.

"Fakir" she said again holding out her hand as if asking him to take it.

"Duck? I don't understand," he said to her as he reached out and took her hand. It was warm and soft to the touch.

"We don't have much time Fakir… and I need you t do something for me." Duck put her hand on his heart and looked at him directly in his eyes. At first Fakir thought she was going to kiss him…but she softly whispered in his ear.

"I finally understand," she said. "When you dream I become a girl again… your powers awaken through your feelings Fakir and give me shape once more"

"You mean you're a dream" Fakir asked and Duck smiled shaking her head. "No, not exactly." She pulled him along like two lovers on a stroll their bare feet pressing down the grass as they moved along the lakeside. Tall reeds brushing up against them as they made their way along the shore.

"I'm real… I'm real here and I am currently a girl in the real world too." She paused as if caught in a thought.

"Drosselmeyer hasn't come back so he doesn't know yet and we need to move quickly to stop him and save Autor and the town." Duck said with a sense of urgency creeping into her tone.

"But how?" Fakir asked, "I can't write at his level or fight with him! I'm a useless wretch"

"Fakir…how can you say that?" Duck said looking at him with a disapproving scowl. "You are just as strong if not stronger?" Drosselmeyer need to write to make his stories and his will take shape."

"I know you can do this Fakir" Duck said, her stare was so intense he couldn't look away.

"It was you whom gave me the strength to help defeat Drosselmeyer the first time Fakir" Duck began to turn away, letting go his hand. "You just need to dream it and make it so"

Fakir bowed his head finally understanding. "Okay, but I will need to give you something of mine to help you stay a girl when I wake up and than we can do this together"

Fakir put his hand next to his chest. A slight grimace of pain passed along his face as a bright red glow seemed pour out and take shape in his hands and than he handed it to Duck. "I think you already know what to do with this," He said with a smile.

Duck smiled and took a small pendant from his hands. It was different from the one Drosselmeyer had given her. Instead of wing shaped it was shaped as it was intended… in the form of a heart. She remembered what he had shouted across the lake that morning and realized the significance of the gift. Fakir was giving her his heart. She lifted the pendant up and placed it around her neck where it shown beautifully.

"Thank you Fakir… I will return it to you as soon as we defeat Drosselmeyer" She smiled at him, her blue eyes gleaming intensely at him.

Fakir watched as she slowly began to fade. He could feel himself drifting back to the real world and the grim realities he must face there. But he was no longer afraid and just before the dream completely vanished he heard Duck whisper one last thing to him.

"Fakir" she said, "I love you too"

When he awoke to find that a strange mist had filled the room and he could smell the lake even though it was miles away. He looked over to were Duck had been hung, she wasn't there, the ropes that had been holding her were cut and lying in pieces on the cold floor. He thought he caught the flash of yellow in the corner of the room but wasn't sure. Between the mist and the poor lighting he couldn't trust his senses.

"Duck?" he whispered, but no answer came. He looked down at his feet… his ropes also had been cut. He saw his sword gleaming in the candlelight. It was as if it was calling out to him.

Slowly he stood up doing his best to keep his movements as quiet as possible. The room he was in was small. There were no windows and only one wooden door, locked of course. He could see through a crack in the doorframe into the attached room. He recognized it at once. It was Autors study and Autor was sitting at the desk. He looked feverish, his eyes sullen and face pale, Fakir could tell that Autors body couldn't hold up much longer under the stress. He was talking to himself as if in conversation with an invisible man.

"I wont let you harm them" he could hear Autor; It was Autor voice trying to regain control.

"You have no choice" Drosselmeyers haunting tone responding in kind. "I've almost finished my story"

"Soon Fakir will awaken and I will watch as the Bookman cuts off first his hands and than his head. All the while that duck gets to watch"

"God I hate you" Autors voice responded, "How I ever admired you or you power"

"Yes, you were quite the fool…but never the less it will soon be over." Drosselmeyer said "and I really must thank you for being the instrument of their destruction"

"I will burn out my body and kill us both!" Autor growled trying to enforce his will on Drosselmeyer.

"Uh Uh Uhhh! We can't allow that!" he sneered, "Oh and by the way… do you know what really makes this even more delicious?" Drosselmeyer asked and than answered himself.

"That pathetic little Duck had actually developed feelings for Fakir and I will love to watch as I get to smash them forever"

Fakir couldn't listen anymore. He knew that Drosselmeyer had greatly weekend under the growing will of Autor and that he still may have a chance to save him and the town. But how? He looked over and saw a large manuscript lying open next to a fresh ink well.

"Drosselmeyer needs to write to make his stories and his will come to life," he remembered Duck saying to him in the dream. Was that it? If he destroyed the book could he bring an end to the story once again? There was only one way to find out. Catching his breath he readied himself as he threw his body into the wooden door. It swung open and he stumbled out. Autor turned to him, he could see the surprise of his face but Drosselmeyer quickly regained his focus and with what seemed unbelievable speed grabbed the book and the quill and wrote something!

Suddenly the small stout figure of the Bookman stood before him. Fakir parleyed his ax swing with a quick swing of his sword.

"I will not let this madness continue" the Bookman said posturing himself to make another swing.

"You're right" Fakir said balancing himself "we will not let this madness continue"

All at once a bright light filled the room forcing the Bookman to drop his ax and to shield his eyes. Drosselmeyers eyes glowed with rage and surprise.

"YOU…it can't be!" His voice crackling with uncertainty. Fakir smiled as an all to familiar voice sung into his ears.

"Yes and I am Princess Tutu" Duck said as vines sprung forth racing across the floor binding the Bookman shattering his ax.

"How? Said Drosselmeyer now cowering grasping the book to his chest. Clutching it like protective armor. "You … went back to being a Duck… you are MY character… how can you spring back to life without my desire?"

Than the pendant around her neck caught his eyes and shot a glace over to Fakir. "You did this?" he gasped and than trying to steady himself he lifted up the quill and went to write in the book still in his hands. But they wouldn't move… his hands frozen in mid stroke.

Another voice emerged it was Autors voice and it was evident Drosselmeyer was caught up by his struggle to regain control.

"Fakir!" he shouted "Don't hesitate! Strike the book now before he regains control!"

Fakir shot a look over to Duck; she nodded, and raised his sword and swung it slicing the manuscript in half. A tremor shot though the room and knocked Autor over as a scream shot up through him. It was a horrible sound as Drosselmeyers sprit was ripped from inside Autors body. Again light filled the room and one of the outside walls collapsed.

Fakir watched as the light shot through the town shattering Drosselmeyers evil intent as people began to take shape once more in streets of Gold Crown Town.

Than Fakir heard a thud and quickly turned around, it was Duck, she had returned to being a girl again but lay silently on the floor.

"Duck!" he cried as panic overtook him as he race to her side.

"Duck" he said again as he leaned down and scooped up her body off the floor. She opened he eyes and stared at him briefly and than said in a hushed tone

"Thank God you're okay" her eyes closed again he her body shivered, as a fever now seemed to over take her.

Fakir quickly carried her back to Karons and placed her in his bed. Karon had returned and stood in the doorway behind him. Tears flowed freely from Fakirs eyes.

"What is it Fakir?" Karon asked as he approached him. "Is that…?" Fakir cut him off in mid sentence.

"Yes, it Duck, she helped me defeat Drosselmeyer and than collapsed." Fakir squeezed the hilt of his sword trying to control his emotions.

"What do I do now Karon?" Fakir turned to him desperately seeking an answer.

"I honestly don't Fakir…this is one riddle I don't have the answer too." Karon answered, the two men standing silently unable to offer any comfort to each other.

Just than came a strange noise like the crack of a drum. Startled they both turned around to find Uzara standing before them. Where she had come from neither man knew. She tapped the drum again and looked directly at Fakir

"Duck is dying" Uzara said in a tearful voice. "Duck can't stay a girl because she will die"

Fakir stared at her. His green eyes burning as Uzara's word echoed in his ears. Anger gushed forth and he shouted at her. "That can't be true, how can that be true?" How could it be true he thought? She was a girl again they could be together.

Uzara replied in almost robotic fashion as another voice filled the room, it was the voice Edel. "Duck is after a Duck, Fakir." Uzara eyes continued to gaze into his own. "It was because she loved you that she was able to take human form again and become Princess Tutu for you… but she cannot continue to stay in this form. Even now it is only because you love her so that she is able to stay as she is now, a girl."

Fakir remembered the vision of them together at the lakeside; he had given her his heart. This was all that kept Duck from dying, the pendant he had fashioned from his feelings into the shape of a heart. Fakir shook his head, his eyes wet from tears, he didn't want to lose her again and he was certain that neither of them would be able to live in this world without the other.

He turned and looked at Karon and said, "I have the answer to this riddle, please leave me alone for a minute with her."

Karon backed out of the doorway. As he did both men noticed Autor barely standing at the far end of the room at the top of the stairs.

"Fakir" he croaked, his mouth dry and body obviously worn out from the ordeal with Drosselmeyer.

"Fakir… I am so sorry" he continued "If I hadn't been so jealous none of this…" Fakir cut him short and turned to him briefly.

"It's okay Autor I understand" Autor look at him confused by his answer. Fakir look calm, almost princely in his demeanor. Fakir turned back to his bedroom where Duck lay feverishly in his bed and he slowly shut the door. His hands trembled as he approached the bed and laid his hand on her face and softly stroked it. There was such gentleness to it.

Ducks eyes fluttered open and gazed into his. They smiled at each other, somehow both knowing each other's hearts, both knowing what Fakir intended to do.

Fakir sat on the edge of the bed and spoke gently to her as her plucked a single hair from her head and wrapped it around the tip of his quill. He opened the Manu-script that had lain half empty for so long.

Outside the room Karon sensed the truth and looked at the bedroom door with a great sadness. A great bang erupted in the stillness and quietly Karon whispered

"Goodbye Fakir"

Autor not realizing what had happened raced to the room and flung open the door. The room was empty. The window had been flung open and the cool night air and a strange mist seemed to hang in the room as pages from a Manu-script got caught up in the breeze and swirled around the desk in the far corner of the room. Autor walked into the room and found a small bundle of clothes, it was Fakirs school uniform; his sword lay aimlessly at the foot of the bed. He grabbed one of the swirling sheets and read aloud to himself.

"Once upon a time there was a man whom fell in love with a duck. Both the man and the Duck could not live without each other and the Duck could not survive in his world."

It wasn't much…but than Autor caught one last sentence at the bottom of the page, it read simply "Goodbye" He stood there for a while staring at the open window trying to take it all in.

Karon finally came in and shut the window. Turning to Autor he said, "He realized that it was better this way."

"The Bookmen would have never let him have any peace and his only solace was when he was with Duck. So, he decided since she couldn't live in our world he live with her in hers." Karon left the room leaving Autor again by himself. Once again he stood amazed by the power of words and even more amazed by the power of love.

"This time I truly do have a right to be jealous of you Fakir" Autor said with a smile.

In the weeks that followed after that, life in Gold Crown Town slowly returned to normal. People went about their business and the sense that Drosselmeyers spirit still linger faded. They tore down the clock tower and planted a garden in its stead.

And a legend sprung forth from that town. That if one was to visit the small lake just outside of the town during the early morning that you might a couple of ducks whom seemed to dance on the water and if you didn't know better you'd swear you could the see the image of a young couple smiling, gazing into each others eyes as they danced together in the early morning sun amongst a strange mist that would swirl about them.

The End 


End file.
